


The Beautiful Sea

by bold_seer



Category: Merchant of Venice - Shakespeare, SHAKESPEARE William - Works
Genre: Depression, Ficlet, Infidelity, M/M, Period Typical Attitudes, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-05 03:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6686503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bold_seer/pseuds/bold_seer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They had all committed sins, and ugly deeds tarnished their conscience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beautiful Sea

It hurt. Not the act itself, which was at worst uncomfortable. But the thought of Portia, her belly round with the fruit of marital bliss. Bassanio’s child growing inside her, stronger by the day.

It was only natural. Gratiano’s wife had already given birth to a girl, nor did he want to begrudge Bassanio an heir. And Portia – he owed a great deal.

He thought back to the moment in court when he saw that Bassanio had arrived after all. Bassanio, who held him dearer than his wife, he’d said. Antonio had felt such affection for him he could happily have died.

It passed. He hadn’t eaten anything, but when he focused on the knife in front of him – imagined it sinking into his flesh and digging inside him, cutting out the share in a horrible pool of blood – there was a burning sensation in his throat and he was close to heaving.

Nothing came of it. Everything was over in a blur; he was free of the debt, hanging over him for months like a heavy, persistent cloud. The weight, a pound of flesh, and the scales to mete out justice. They had tipped in his favour, but it was justice, wasn’t it? And so they went back to their lives as if nothing at all had ever occurred. Except, he realised, Shylock was no longer a Jew.

Nothing that mattered was as it had been. Bassanio was in Belmont, Bassanio was married, and he was left with Solanio and Salerio for company.

Was left, until Bassanio turned up in Venice. _It’s all changing_ , he’d said with a tremble to his voice, a strange urgency, and kissed him.

Bassanio hadn’t changed one bit. His body was familiar, lean and strong. The same firm hands, the handsome features and the boyish smile.

He thought he hadn’t changed much either, but that wasn’t quite true. His steps were heavy. Yet at times he felt unnaturally light, floating and removed from himself. As if someone had carved out big parts of him, and all that remained were the bones, frayed scraggy and translucent.

_I promised on my soul_ , he recalled as Bassanio collapsed on top of him. But his ugly, twisted self revelled in the thought that he had provided Bassanio with something Portia was unable or unwilling to.

It was fleeting. A hollow and meaningless sensation, which came with the suspicion that he wasn’t a righteous man. That Bassanio was less loving than he appeared to be. Perhaps even Portia was hideously flawed under a mask of beauty, wit and virtue.

If they had all committed sins, and ugly deeds tarnished their conscience –

But what did any of it matter (except Bassanio, Bassanio mattered), if he had already given up his soul a long time ago.


End file.
